


maybe I like this rollercoaster

by LonelySparrow



Category: One Direction
Genre: Cheesy, Corny, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Happy, M/M, Tour, i reference the movie and make a really dumb line but whatever, life - Freeform, schmoopsie, schmoopy, this is us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelySparrow/pseuds/LonelySparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the gifset of Harry pulling Niall down the trapdoor last night at the Staples Center. Schmoop</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe I like this rollercoaster

It’s crazy to think that this is his life now. Sure, there’s a lot of bad. He can’t go outside without having to sign something or stop for pictures (which isn’t always bad but when he’s trying to buy pants and briefs it gets to be a bit much). Horrendous and libelous stories get published about his family that have little to absolutely no truth to them. He can’t get enough sleep. He doesn’t eat the right foods. He’s constantly living out of a suitcase or a backpack or a bus. 

But its good. There’s so much good.

He can support his family after they’ve supported him. He gets to see the most beautiful places in some of the most exotic lands. He gets to see people. People of all shapes and sizes and races and its kind of beautiful and makes him realize how beautiful and precious life really is.

He gets to do all of this with his best friends, and with one who might be edging into something more. 

He’s looking out at Los Angeles and thinks how this is the place that makes or breaks people. New acts are put together, lives are changed here. He looks out at the Staples Center thats packed to the brim and in the front row he spots at least twenty girls crying their way through “What Makes You Beautiful.” 

It’s kind of a pretty sight. To see someone feel so much emotion about he and his band mates singing. He knows he’s not extraordinary. He knows really that the bands probably not that extraordinary or revolutionary, but the fans. The fans make them feel like they are.

He’s standing by the trapdoor now and he’s supposed to leap down in but he just wants a tiny moment to savor this. To wrap this memory up and tuck it in his pocket like a polaroid so he can pull it out and look at it when it’s all said and done and over.

He hopes that it will be well-used, with the corners creased and the image blurry from so many fingerprints.

“Niall?” He says, just loud enough so he can hear in that very slow, very deep voice of his. He smiles down at his boy, his beautiful curly haired boy and revels in it for a moment.

But then Harry’s run out of patience and has woven his fingers through the front of Niall’s vest. He tugs and Niall thinks of a different tugging. One on his heart strings.

They’ve seen millions of people by now, but still Harry chooses him. 

That might surprise him more than the millions of fangirls crying over their last American show for the Take Me Home Tour.

He was enough. He was enough for this boy, when he couldn’t be enough for all of those others.

Niall steadies himself and leaps, not afraid anymore. He’s taken so many courageous plunges now that this small six foot jump into the arms of his best friend that he maybe kinda loves doesn’t scare him a bit.

He flops down, landing atop Harry and wraps his arms around his shoulders.

Harry leans up and captures Niall’s lips with his own. He’s whispering something but the stomps of feet above and the shrieking, shrill whines of fans drowns him out. He can feel it in the way his lips move though. 

Mine. So beautiful. And…and…I love you. He’s saying I love you.

Niall grips Harry’s shirt like a lifeline and licks into Harry’s mouth.

He hears snickering close by and he knows that it’s probably Louis. He can’t bring himself to care though because he’s high off the show, high off the screams, and drunk off Harry.

He rests his forehead against Harry’s collar bone, hands fisted across Harry’s back.

“I love you. I love you too.” He whispers and he knows he doesn’t need to prove it but he seals it with a kiss anyway.

Harry whines in the back of his throat and starts to remove Niall’s shirt but Liam and Zayn and Louis are there and they’re all waiting patiently and he can’t really take their stares right now. He pulls away from Harry, crawls off of his lap. 

Harry groans and stands up stiffly, pulling Niall up after him. He doesn’t let go though, curling his arm around Niall’s waist and shoving his fingers through the belt loop of Niall’s black zipper jeans.

“Good show, lads.” Liam beams, and then they’re all laughing at the absurdity that is their life and pulling each other into one of their group hugs. They’re not boys anymore so they don’t quite fit as well. They’re all broader across the back, some more rounded in the biceps (Liam) and some stronger in their core (Harry), but it still feels nice with their gangly limbs and snapbacks and lanky arms.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, the kind of quiet that happens when they’re all sleepy and a little exhausted mentally but they’re still happy.

 

“Love you lads,” Niall half-whispers.

“Love you too,” They chorus back.

And they do. They love him. They love the tour. They love America. They love home. They love this life. 

And as Harry’s hand finds Niall’s in the tangle of bodies, Niall thinks that his life couldn’t get any better and this is it. This is them. This is us.


End file.
